


Goblin Slayer: Year Six

by AnalInquiry420



Category: Goblin Slayer (Anime), Goblin Slayer (Manga)
Genre: 15 year olds dying, Emotional Introspection, Gen, fuck goblins, god i just fucking hate goblins so much
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-08-10 09:43:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20133382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnalInquiry420/pseuds/AnalInquiry420
Summary: It was a standard extermination mission - Goblins in a cave. Scout it out, assess, deal with it, go home in time for supper.But when Priestess is killed by one bad roll of the dice, Goblin Slayer is forced to grapple with the loss of something he never even knew he had, a person close to him. In the wake of this, Goblin Slayer must consider his own emotions for the first time in many years and recenter his crusade without the help of his most trusted companion.





	1. One Bad Roll

One bad roll of the dice, that's all it takes. Life comes and goes so easily, and in the end, it never really matters so much. 

The man who was called Goblin Slayer knew this intimately. He knew it with every ounce of his being. Death is always clawing to take you. You must never give it an opening. Expect anything and prepare for everything. For more than six years, he'd been denying anyone a chance to roll the dice. Time and time again he faced death and emerged from the pile of blood and detritus, ready to fight another day. 

And he'd done it alone. At least, for most of that time. He didn't really know how the young Priestess Girl had come to be his adventuring companion, but despite her representation of a chaotic element in his meticulous crusade, she remained. She had remained four hours ago, when the sun was dipping down behind the horizon and Goblin Slayer was crouched, stiff as a board and wordless, just watching the mouth of the cave. It had become routine to her, the planning before the execution. 

She had followed as Goblin Slayer counted off every individual Goblin who exited and entered before they all made their way inside for the night, save of course for a paltry guard, leaning against a rock and muttering his guttural gibberish to himself in anger, almost falling asleep every few seconds before jolting himself awake when his crude spear pressed into his flesh. Time for the execution. 

A few spins of a sling, one throw and a rock collided with a small green head. Viciously, bones cracking and skin splitting. The poor guard had only a few moments of sensation left before whatever rattled around that skull drained out in a red puddle. 

One. 

Goblin Slayer liked caves with only one entrance and exit. They were easy to deal with. Flood them, burn them out, hell, just toss in something that blows up and cover up the entrance, let the things starve. Unfortunately, that was no option today. These mines were simply far too deep and the rock too strong to collapse at man's will. Maybe if the old Dwarf Shaman were here, he'd be able to conjure up another collapse, but they were off attending to matters of a less Goblinoid nature. Goblin Slayer had no strong feelings about that one way or the other. The fact that he would have to go in and kill with his two hands was of no concern.

It would be wrong to call the way he fought effortless - He was far too deliberate for that. Twitchy, too, despite his stoicism. His head was on a swivel, always checking every angle, always expecting an ambush. A long slice severing the throat, a stab straight into an eye.

Two, three.

Priestess Girl tried to make herself of use, but she always knew to stay behind Slayer, and he was making short work of things. The fiends threw themselves at him and he greeted them with gusto. A throw to the ground followed by a firm stomp on a head. A flurry of dagger-stabs into a chest, a bludgeoning with an appropriately-shaped rock on the ground. 

Four, five, six. 

Priestess Girl wondered why he never got complacent. Seven, eight, nine. Adventuring was hard work, but it was work , and like any other work, you get used to it. After enough shifts, the farmer is no longer thinking when he shears the sheep or milks the cow. But Goblin Slayer treated every mission like his first. Just like his hatred for them, his mind never dulled even a little. Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen. 

A campfire at the bottom of an incline. Logs of timber from long-since abandoned human labor efforts. One errant kick, and gravity cast it's die. Twenty, twenty one. The twenty-second was pinned beneath the log with his arm held to a pile of searing embers. It's ear-splitting screeches sent the rest scrambling. 

It was a standard mission, nothing like the ones that stuck out in Priestess Girl's mind with great evils, new friends and long, winding adventures. And after a few, or maybe a lot of minutes of more frantic combat with only minor support on her side, it was time to go home. Priestess Girl beamed a smile at Goblin Slayer as he wrapped up, and as he turned his head to regard her she imagined that his helmet was smiling, too. Up and away. They could see the light, or lack thereof, where they'd entered. Priestess Girl's darkness adjustment was washed out by the torch Goblin Slayer held. She didn't notice the hint of a silhouette at the mouth of the mines, or the fact that he was holding a crossbow. In fact, the only thing she noticed was a sound like a -THWIP- in the air and the fact that there was a bolt lodged in her chest. 

Goblin Slayer froze for one precious moment. He watched her slumping against the ground and caught her before she hit it. How could this have happened? What had he done wrong? The number of Goblins perfectly aligned with the initial mission briefing. He hadn't scouted enough. A paltry few hours. How could he have become so complacent? A fool. Just like his Master had told him. He was truly dumber than the Goblins he was trying to fight.

The Goblin. He turned his head and gathered their figure. They had pushed the crossbow against the ground and were struggling, furiously to re-arm it. No doubt stolen from some other failed adventurer without regard. Goblin Slayer threw a dagger with his usual precision. No time to waste on vengeance, he had medical duties to attend to. They'd been on the brink before, but Goblin Slayer had never been the one who needed to do the saving. 

It was bad. In fact, it was exactly as bad as it possibly could have been. It pierced close to the centre, straight through her breast. If his assumptions were correct, she likely only had minutes left. Her best bet was on the whispers of prayer that were just barely escaping her lips. Had it pierced her lung? That would have been preferable to the heart, but her pulse was falling rapidly. 

Their eyes locked. Neither said a thing, save for Priestess Girl continuing her prayer. Goblin Slayer pulled his helmet off. Vulnerable. He didn't care. He didn't know much about people, but he knew that he didn't want her to spend her last moments looking at a suit of armor. 

Whatever she had prayed, it wasn't saving her. Seconds left. With shaking, shuddering effort, she reached up and pressed her hand against his breastplate, the cold steel that covered his heart.  
_"I would have followed you... Until the end..."_

Goblin Slayer felt the last pumps of effort from her muscles and her breath cease. He watched her turn from a person into a dead body, right there in his arms, eyes still wide upon and locked on his. 

For the second time in his short life, Goblins had taken everything from Goblin Slayer.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He was silent as he walked his way into the city that acted as the hub of the frontier. Not that that was any different to normal. In fact, it wasn't even not normal that he was absolutely covered in blood and carrying a small girl in his arms, bridal-style. Another woman escaped from the clutches of the Goblins, never to become human again. But a few, somewhat familiar heads turned when they saw that the one he had left with wasn't there. Or, rather, she was there, except she was stone cold dead and being carried. Her skin was pale and pallid, face frozen in shock. At the road that led to the Guild, Goblin Slayer went left, towards the abbey. 

Almost all of the students and staff there were females. It would be a prime target for Goblin raids if they ever breached the walls. They needed to defend themselves better. He would have told them that, if he wasn't taking a dead body to the first person who looked like an authority he saw. The dead girl was one of theirs. He didn't know the first thing about religion, but he knew that she would have wanted to follow the rituals of the Earth Mother. 

After a few slow, confused conversations, the body that was once called Priestess Girl was in the 'system.' It seemed bureaucratic, just like the Guild. Goblin Slayer attended when he could. For the first time in a long time, he went multiple days without leaving town to go on quests. People held conversations with him, told him they were sorry. He always said that they weren't the ones who needed to be sorry.

At almost all hours of the day, he lingered at her body, watching, locking eyes with it. He didn't know why. He couldn't stop looking. He had failed her, he knew, but there was nothing that he could do now. His time would be better spent planning for the next steps, figuring out how to make up for the advantages he'd lost with her. Yet he remained.

He remained until the final burial and funeral. Sword Maiden had made her way from Water Town to deliver the prayers. A few of her friends had come, boring drills of nothing more than pure disdain into Goblin Slayer with their eyes. And the High Elf Ranger, Dwarf Shaman and even old Lizard Priest filed in, dipping their heads and trying to offer any consolation. If it had happened just a few days ago, he would have honestly, truly been able to say he didn't care. But he did. A revelation struck him as he watched the body lower itself into the ground. Cognizance of his feelings hit him and he began to shatter. He was a child again, hiding under the floorboards as his sister bled just above, torn apart by raving beasts. He felt a deep, unbearable sickness in his chest where something else was before. The body was in the ground and about to be covered up.

Goblin Slayer threw himself towards the hole and leapt in, taking care not to damage anything. The family began making a ruckus, but he couldn't hear anything past the sound of blood rushing in his ears. His body was flushing with heat and stinging, sour vomit fought to make it's way out of his throat. This was wrong. It was all wrong. There was no reason for her to be dead. The world was meant for her to still be in it. What had happened? He didn't understand. There was no way the story could go on without her.

But the Earth Mother never came. Her eyes which had been closed for a ritual Goblin Slayer didn't understand never snapped back open. Goblin Slayer's rush of mania left him and was replaced with cold. A void. Hollowness.  
He put his hand to her chest. He was never a talker, but words escaped his mouth without his consent.

**"You don't end here. **

**This body in the ground isn't you.**

**I will take you with me. Until the end."**

Feeling a powerful tinge of humiliation and embarrassment as he pulled himself out of the grave, he turned and walked right out, abandoning her body for the first time since she'd died.


	2. The Broken Ones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Priestess is gone. Goblin Slayer must move on. He finds himself amongst a support group for others who have lost something while adventuring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you like references because i tend to put in quotes and stuff i like wholesale. catch every reference and win a pair of skateboards!

_Adventurers. Almost all are common-born, simple folk from humble, boring families. They hear tales from their relatives or the few that live around them of adventuring, the guild, the heroes and legends, the gold, the glory. They see a door to a better way of life - They come of age and march off, poorly shod and poorly clad, ofttimes with no better arms than a sickle or a sharpened hoe, or a maul they made themselves by lashing a stone to a stick with strips of hide. Brothers march with brothers, sons with fathers, friends with friends. They've heard the songs and stories, so they go off with eager hearts, dreaming of the wonders they will see, of the wealth and glory they will win. Adventure seems a fine life, the greatest most of them will ever know._

_Then they get a taste of battle._

_For some, that one taste is enough to break them. Others go on for years, until they lose count of all the battles they have fought in, but even a man who has survived a hundred fights can break in his hundred-and-first. Brothers watch their brothers die, fathers lose their sons, friends see their friends trying to hold their entrails in after they've been gutted by an axe._

_They take a wound, and when that's still half-healed they take another. There is never enough to eat, their shoes fall to pieces from the walking, their clothes are torn and rotting. _

_They don't know where they are or how to get back home and the one they're fighting for does not know their names, yet the orders come, calling for adventurers to plum the depths, to form lines with their swords and spears and sharpened hoes... And the fiends come on them, their stomping feet and terrible roars overwhelming all other sensation._

_And the adventurer breaks._

_They turn and run, or crawl off afterward over the corpses of the slain, or steal away in the black of night, then find someplace to hide. All thought of home is gone by then, and kings and lords and gods mean less to them than a haunch of meat that will let them live another day, or a skin of wine that might drown their fear for a few hours. The broken one lives from day to day, from meal to meal, more beast than human._

Goblin Slayer walked blearily through the streets, strangely cognizant of the sound of his armor clinking as he moved. He headed for the Guild. It was time to get things back on track, he'd wasted enough precious time lost in his indulgent mourning. As per usual, more gawking eyes when he came through the door, but that was nothing new. They plastered awkward smiles across their faces, a warrior in heavy armor gently rested his hand on Goblin Slayer's shoulder. He stepped past the crowds towards the desk and Guild Girl greeted him with a beaming grin, trying to radiate some positivity. "Slayer-san! How're you holding up? Anything I can get for you?"

He paused. **"It's time for me to get back to work. I need a Goblin Quest."** Guild Girl's smile changed into something a little more familiar, a comforting embrace of tradition and normality. _"Alright, but before you do, can I talk to you about something..?"_ Goblin Slayer considered just walking away with the paper, resentful of the thought of more impudence into his mission. But she was a friend, and he needed to consider things other than killing Goblins. At least, that's what people kept telling him. So he relented and nodded. _"There's a session that gathers members of the guild every week here in the Guild, in one of the offices. For, ah, adventurers who have... Lost something or been deeply hurt by what they've gone through. You should consider attending! I'll be there, mediating! I think it might be good for you, to talk about what happened."_

Goblin Slayer breathed deep and slow through his nose, crumpling the paper of the contract in his hand as he stomped off, frustrated by the binds of attachment constricting him. **"I will consider it."** He tried to not let his anger show. Another feeling was brewing in him. He gazed across the sea of faces in the hall, chatting, drinking, preparing for work or coming back from it. Old faces, young faces, bright shining eyes. Plenty of those eyes would be closed before long. Eyes that didn't deserve to be closed. Much like Priestess.

Goblin Slayer walked hard, facing straight ahead. By the time he had been out of town and on the road for a few minutes, he realized he hadn't even checked the details of his mission. He inspected his paper, another cave. About fifteen goblins, give or take. Unknown leader, likely a wanderer or Hob, no visible totems. Along the way was the farm, but he didn't feel like making a stop, even though he was low on gear. More stiff, forced hospitality from his old friend trying desperately to get him to admit some breakage in his functionality didn't appeal at that moment. He'd make do with what he had. He got a ride from a passing caravan and walked the rest of the way, through the woods. He kept some notes of any tracks or traps around, but he wasn't catching anything at a cursory glance. 

Didn't take that long to get to the mouth of the cave. Goblin Slayer picked a good position where he'd be visually obscure but had a good view of the entrance. He sat himself down and considered his gear. A hatchet, torches, some knives, a short dagger-like sword, some miniature, impact-sensitive explosives, a couple potions, bandages, trump card in case of emergency, etcetera etcetera. He'd put it all to... Use. He felt his heart throbbing, unnaturally. The heat rose in his flesh again and he began to sweat inside his armor. Adrenaline made him shaky and uncertain, his heart pumped. He couldn't take it. Fuck the plan. He didn't care if he lived or died. 

He sauntered up heavily to the entrance, one-handed axe in his grip. The Guard immediately scurried away off into the darkness, but Goblin Slayer gave pursuit. He'd never do something so foolhardy ordinarily, but the idea of being led into a less defensible area with more risk for attacks wasn't on his mind. It was killing the Goblins. All of them. He caught the ankle of the chubby little bastard fleeing and yanked them back, making them land hard on their front. He started dragging them out, watching them claw and screech, trying to get enough grip to prevent his fate, something, anything to stop him being brought back out into the light. But to no avail.

Goblin Slayer lifted him and let him hang upside down, limply. The thing began to sob and make general notions of begging at Goblin Slayer, who regarded it with a hateful eye. If helmets could make faces, the sneer of seething hatred would be palpable. Goblin Slayer pulled his arm back and then threw it towards the rockwall. **THWACK.** Flesh impacted stone and a protruding nose collapsed in on itself. Bleed vessels burst, bones cracked, flesh bruised. **SMACK. SMACK. SMACK. SMACK. SMACK.** A big red smear in the form of a Goblin was beginning to form on the stones. It looked a little like the crude art Goblins themselves might concoct. 

He tossed the limp, barely-breathing thing on the ground and stomped on it's head, which gave like a rotten apple. Funtime was over, he'd already been advanced upon. A rock collided with the back of his head and he turned to see a Goblin perched in a tree. How very hopeful of them. He had throwing knives, but he figured two could play at that game. He lifted a heavier, more jagged rock and drew his arm back. He waited for the fiend to panic and scramble, measured their path... Then threw. It connected in a spray of blood and viscera. Their brain was exposed, and he had no doubt they'd die soon. Still, he'd make sure later. 

Turning around, about three Goblins were charging at him with machete-styled blades in hand. He backed off, waiting for one to make it's move, but they were practically in unison. He went for his axe and buried it in the skull of the first to approach, but the others circled around him. One sliced at the back of his knee, making it buckle and forcing him to kneel. As he spun to counter, the other went for his front and leapt up, holding the machete above it's head in two hands, trying to bring it down hard and stake it straight through Goblin Slayer's chest. He let it's legs connect and wrap around his torso, falling backwards. It threw the Goblin off for a second, long enough for him to swipe the weapon away with a slap of his forearm, sending it clattering. He went to punch it off, but found his arm suddenly grabbed and pulled back by the one who had gotten his leg. It sunk it's teeth into the plate metal that covered him, punching some holes through it, but it wouldn't affect anything. His off-arm wrapped around the throat of the Goblin sitting on his chest and squeezed while he pushed himself back up to his feet, carrying the Goblin who'd bitten him with him by it's jaw. He applied more pressure with his wrist until he felt the bones give in the Goblin's neck and the creature go limp. Then he threw the other to the ground, pinning it down with his boot. He worked his fingers beneath the chin, digging them in under the jaw, then pulled.

With a vicious, wet **RIP**, the head separated from the body. That was... 4. No, 5. More didn't seem to be willing to make their way out, so he was going in. He didn't see any side-tunnels in the narrow passage. Oh, here's some more Goblins. They were all coming at once! That was handy, if a bit intimidating. He reached into his satchel and grabbed himself some of the aforementioned little grenades, tossing them with abandon into the rushing hoard. They exploded in small pressurized bursts, but the fragmented shell being thrown around and the powerful releases of energy were enough to take out a few of them and blind or deafen a few more. Their united front was weakened and Goblin Slayer prepared to pick them off. 

He felt a rope slip around his neck. **"Oh, no-"** He was suddenly being choked from above, a weak force dragging him, cutting off his airflow. He tried to glance up. They must have built some sort of tunnel ABOVE him and perched there in an entrance, waiting for the perfect moment. No matter. He was much stronger than them. He just had to cut whatever was holding him with- No, his arms were being dragged, too. They were piling on him, mauling him, getting in a stab or two here and there. He could feel his strength fading. The Hobgoblin was approaching with a massive hacksaw held in both hands, no doubt to cap it off with a grisly ending.

Goblin Slayer began to realize as his lungs burned and vision tunneled that he did, in fact, care if he lived or died.  
He elected to err on the side of life. 

He couldn't use his arms or legs, but he could still work his body. He just had to wriggle back until the rope was catching his armor instead of his neck. He pulled back and let it catch the chin of his faceplate. Oxygen was able to flood into his lungs again. He didn't have much time. He let gravity grab a firm hold of the helm and pull it off, releasing the main source of support holding up Goblin Slayer. He fell backwards into the pile. He hoped he crushed at least one of them to death. He scrambled furiously to try and keep them from piling on him, little hands and limbs clawing at his body, trying to keep him down. Kicks and punches flew and he managed to crawl out long enough to get himself an opening. They'd stripped him of almost everything in those moments, but he still had his axe. Slash, hack, chop. A few more down. He was mostly interested in the Hob. They decided mutually to ignore the little ones. 

The Hobgoblin's weapon of choice was more a tool of torture than a weapon. It's grip was awkward, prevented easy movement and could only really attack in a downward direction efficiently. Goblin Slayer let him approach and hoist it in the air. He ran a few steps and then slid along the muddy ground, right between the Hobgoblin's legs. As he came out the other end, he swung his hatchet and let it connect directly with the ankle-tendon of the Hobgoblin, who folded and cried out in pain. It gave Goblin Slayer a moment to take out a couple more of the bastards. Some of them were beginning to flee. He'd deal with them. The Hobgoblin turned, face twisted in rage, and began to charge. It struggled to put weight on it's severed foot, but it's adrenaline would permit it to fight through the pain and disability. It was rushing towards him like a bull with furious speed.

Goblin Slayer casually stepped aside and let him tumble uselessly to the ground. He reached for a potion of healing that had been scattered in the scuffle, popping it off and pouring it straight through his faceplate. That would help with his punctures, but he'd need to find an antidote in case he'd been poisoned. All in time. He approached the Hob trying to push itself up and swung his axe once more, this time through the elbow of it's right arm, which it seemed to be favouring. He considered choking it for some irony, but those Goblins could have scurried off a long way by now. It'd be a long day. He grabbed the head of matted hair on the Hobgoblin's skull and pulled it back. He grabbed for a dull, rusty knife caked in dirt and faeces off the ground, bringing it to the Hobgoblin's throat...

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**The door slammed open with a startling whack.** The people in the office, all sitting around in a circle in little chairs, slumped over, swivelled to look. A few gasps rang out as Goblin Slayer stepped in. His armor was filled with holes, he stumbled like a drunk. He was covered head to toe in dried blood. No, some blood was still dripping on him. A steel-rank warrior Goblin Slayer vaguely recognized approached him. _"You look like hammered shit! Do you need healing?!"_

Goblin Slayer shook his head and motioned at the group of people all sitting around in a circle, staring straight at him. He grabbed for a chair and inserted himself amongst everyone. Guild Girl was at the end with a view of everyone, awkwardly clearing her throat, tapping on a journal with a pen. "Well, um, Goblin Slayer, welcome to the Adventure Support Group... We were just about to wrap up, actually, but, uh, I suppose we can take a few moments to speak with you... Everyone, you all know Goblin Slayer!" She said, to a chorus of mumbled acknowledgement and nodding heads. **"I didn't realize this was going to be about me."**

"Oh, well, it's not, really! It's for all of us, it's about what we've gone through in Adventuring, and how we go on afterwards. For example, our Barbarian friend here was just talking about how he wasn't feeling like he could fight anymore after he saw his brother dying." Goblin Slayer glanced over. **"Why not? You're still alive. You look like you can fight just fine to me."** Guild Girl pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. "It's not about that, Slayer. It's about the toll adventuring can take. On your mind, on your soul. Let's... Would you be okay if we talked about your adventuring companion? She passed, very recently. Would you be willing to speak about her?"

**"I see no reason why I wouldn't."**  
"Tell me, Mr. Slayer, how do you feel about her passing? What emotions have you felt?"  
**"It has left me in a... Malaise. She was a reliable and trustworthy adventurer. And she was... A good person."**  
"But how do you FEEL? Are you sad? Angry?"  
**"I am... Both. I would suppose that at this moment I am more in anger than sadness."**  
"Alright, let's start there." Guild Girl pointed her pen in his direction and nodded. "Why are you angry, Goblin Slayer?"  
**"Because my friend was killed by Goblins. I hate Goblins. I wish that she had not passed."** He thought that would be sufficient, but expectant eyes were still lingering on him. "Go on. Would you be less angry if she had died some other way?" 

**"Yes. If she had been killed by something else, there might have been reason for it. There is no meaning in a defeat to Goblins. She was taken away in just a moment because I failed to pay attention."**  
Guild Girl perked up a little bit. "You feel as though you could have prevented her death, and it makes you frustrated?"  
**"Yes."** "That's very common! That's very common in cases where there are survivors and dead. They call it Survivor's Guilt. It's the feeling of foisting responsibility for one's death on oneself, even when it's irrational. We can take some time to work through it later, but- As much as I'd like to go on, we're past our time limit here."

**"...I see."** On cue, everyone rose from their seats and started wandering off into the evening, talking quietly amongst themselves. This seemed like a very solemn ritual. Goblin Slayer wasn't sure he understood it. He made his way towards the door when he was stopped by a a hand gripping his forearm. It had a tough, firm grip, and Goblin Slayer almost went into defensive mode for a second, flinching as he turned. 

A short girl in clothes from the abbey was staring at him, insistently. She had dull, cold eyes. Eyes that had seen too much. Another broken one. Goblin Slayer wondered if he didn't recognize her. Maybe another one he'd rescued. Or, rather, failed to rescue. She certainly looked like another victim of the goblins.  
"We need to talk."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was meant to focus more on the therapy session but i ended up going off on an action tangent and it kinda just became the ending. more later maybe!


	3. Mended Armor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goblin Slayer meets a figure from the not-so-distant past.

_A blade can be sharpened. Armor mended. The soul is forever shattered._

"We need to talk." The girl with the tired eyes spoke insistently, holding Goblin Slayer by the arm. He turned his head down at her, and she flinched away briefly from his gaze behind the heavy helmet. **"Is that so?"** The girl swallowed her trepidation and nodded, looking at him with determined, narrow eyes. A moment of silence held. **"...Please be quick, I have been quite injured. I must seek more robust medical attention soon."**

Goblin Slayer pushed through back into the main hall of the Guild and sat himself down at one of the tables to ease the burden on his tired legs, breathing deeply. The girl dressed in a heavy cloak sat across from him and continued to stare. _"...A year ago, when I went on my first adventure, you saved me. I was almost done for, but you saved my life."_ Goblin Slayer considered her for a moment. He wasn't always so good at remembering people, but he could feel himself growing more cognizant of just who she was. Yes, there was no doubt about it. It was the girl from the very same quest he'd met Priestess on. His face twisted imperceptibly beneath his steel cover. A fighter, or a monk, he thought. **"...Yes, indeed. I am glad I reached you before it was too late."** The fighter looked cross at him for a moment, but deflated just as quickly, shutting her eyes and letting out a sigh. 

_"She's gone, isn't she? Priestess."_ Goblin Slayer just nodded. The girl shuddered like a blast of cold went through the room, or she was holding something in. _"I knew it would happen. I should have warned her, or... Done something. Anything. There's no... I don't understand. Why do you people keep doing it?"_ She focused back on Goblin Slayer. _"Why keep throwing yourself into hell? Sooner or later... You're all just gonna end up like her. Or... Like me. Look at me..."_ She cracked up a little bit, stilted and loathing laughter as she regarded her own form. _"I'm useless. My whole life, I thought I was going to be a hero, and all I learn is that I can't even hack it once. I can't fight anymore. I won't. All it leads to is more hurt."_ She bowed her head, going silent again. 

Goblin Slayer awkwardly stewed in her words for a while before standing. **"I don't believe you."** The small girl looked at him with an arched brow, briefly rubbing off her raw face on a sleeve. **"You do not believe that you are useless. That is merely... A defensiveness. You failed and were hurt. So you have shut yourself in a delusion of your own uselessness to avoid the possibility of harm again. You have decided that you have already missed your chance. I say that's horse... Hog-wash. The only failure is in giving up. The woman you were is not dead. You have only put her to rest.  
You are a hero. You can continue to be a hero. All that matters for a hero is that when they're called to do the right thing, they answer. Nothing else."**

The smaller girl's face contorted into a pained smile, for a while, and she laughed again before shaking her head. _"I can't do it. I just can't. I thought you'd have the right things to say, but... Ha, ha, that doesn't help at all. I can't be like you. I feel it too much. Every night, I see that same cave. I feel my bones being broken and my flesh being cut. I see it all, over and over. It's like... A dagger in my brain. You're just... A freak. A freak who doesn't care about pain. I should probably be thankful... But I look at you and all I see is that terrible day."_

**"I see."**

The fighter girl stood, turned away, and began to walk. Goblin Slayer waited for a moment and cleared his throat, straining out some more speech. **"Wait. Remember... It's not about killing monsters. It's not about saving people. Not always. To be a hero, you just have to... Do the right thing, whenever you can. You can still do anything you choose with your life."** She looked at him as he spoke, then went back on her way.

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Goblin Slayer roused on the farm, early as always. The seething pain across his body had settled to a manageable ache, and he limped out for his morning chores. The patrol, taking care of the animals, gathering up some ingredients for breakfast. Cow Girl and her uncle spoke to him less these days. Though she tried to offer her comforts to her old friend, a wall had been built between them. Goblin Slayer didn't mind it so much, but he could tell she was having trouble with it. As they gathered around the dinner table, he felt it would be polite to try and kill off the silence she'd been holding. **"I would like to... Thank you for accommodating me. More than before, your support has been invaluable to me in this time. I would struggle to get by without your help."** Goblin Slayer wasn't being entirely honest, but one thing he'd learned about people was that they didn't always want the truth. It seemed to have the desired effect, and Cow Girl began to grin and leapt over to wrap Goblin Slayer in a big hug, rubbing on him. _"Oh, it's really nothing, it's just the right thing to do! I know you must be hurting, so, anything at all we can do for you, just tell us and it's done, anything at all!"_ Goblin Slayer nodded. **"...I will be sure to do so. For the moment, is there a chain of metal I can borrow?"** __

_ _\--------------------------------Rapid Scene Transition x2-----------------------------_ _

_ __ _

_ _Goblin Slayer stood in the guild's practice room, a length of chain in a large pouch affixed to his hip, a hook affixed to the end he'd improvised from a horse wagon's winch. With his off hand, he could easily reach it and use it as a weapon. It loudly clinked and had only situational applications, but he had ideas brewing. He needed to work harder and think more. No more letting others pick up the slack. The time for emotion was over, he had business. He braced himself, a hatchet in his right hand and his left loosely gripping the end of the chain. He ran and buried his handheld axe firmly in the 'skull' of a training dummy, and in one fluid motion, whipped his chain outwards at another dummy not far behind the first, arcing it sideways. Just as he hoped, it quickly wrapped around the dummy's wooden neck and then locked with the hook - He pulled and it merely tightened. A brutal, painful weapon. Goblin Slayer flared with a bit of energy. For the first time in a long time, he felt inspired._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *writes "i will not begin and then abandon a creative project* on a chalkboard over and over*


End file.
